


McPupper

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Belly Rubs, Blood and Injury, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Chaos, Collars, Destruction, Everything is the same except Geoffrey is a werewolf, Fluff and Humor, Geoffrey is so done with his shit, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Irish Wolfhounds, Jonathan is enjoying himself, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mischief, Puppy Kisses, Puppy Love, Toe beans, Werewolves, lots of baby talk, tail wagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24479926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: When Jonathan finds a stray dog injured from a skal attack, he didn't expected to become so attached to it. Nursing it back to health, he's determined to find the unlucky pup's owner or a good home while slowly falling in love with it's endearing personality and playful demeanor.OR(Geoffrey has the misfortune of being rescued by none other than the Leech Doctor and is forced to keep up the ruse lest his secret be revealed to not only Jonathan but also Swansea. Never before had he considered being a lapdog as the lap of luxury but the extra bit of attention while he recovers didn't feel so bad.)
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum & Jonathan Reid, Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 32
Kudos: 189





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo instead of working on the half a dozen other fic series I've been writing regularly up to this point, I decided to start another fic and I was encouraged by the Pembroke Hospital Vampyr server. They fuel my bullshit sooo here we are with Werewolf Geoffrey and a doting ekon Jonathan.

Jonathan Reid had intended for a quiet uneventful night on his usual rounds. Whitechapel had grown considerably quieter as Priwen’s ranks closed in and rooted out a majority of the skal nests that hunkered down along the canals and within the bowels of the sewers. Geoffrey wasn’t exaggerating when he said he had a good nose for finding troublesome leeches, and he proved that by the sheer efficiency of his men as they swept the more at risk areas of the city. Jonathan would even go so far as to say he was impressed with the speed and determination in the Guard of Priwen’s progress, despite what Edgar had to say on the matter. The Brotherhood didn’t appear to have any intention of intervening in the outbreak of vampires and given some of the implications of what Edgar has said about the Brotherhood itself, they didn’t have the manpower or the interest in doing so.

That didn’t exactly sit right with the doctor when so many poor people were being left to die in the slums between the epidemic and the vampire plague running amok in the streets. It made him sick and was exactly why he made it his duty to tend to these people as best he could with each passing night. 

Thankfully the night was quiet, offering him a chance to stray from his usual rounds after checking in on his regular patients, traveling the back alleys for signs of troublesome skals or the rogue Sewer Beast here and there, when his keen sense of hearing picked up on an unusual sound. Due to the epidemic, Jonathan had seen more than his fair share of strays abandoned by owners too sickly or poor to take care of them, or because said owners passed away. More often than not, these same strays would end up an easy meal for a passing skal or beast. It was a rare occurrence that he would come across one, even more so one that was alive.

Yes, it was in fact the pained whimpers of a canine that drew his ear. A familiar sound he’s heard enough times during the war between strays that roamed the battlefield and No Man’s Land for a quick and easy meal, and the canines that worked in the trenches beside the men, helping suss out enemy threats and hidden mines.

This particular pup was no small emaciated stray like he had expected as he moved into the dirty alley, the shadows drawn close around him were dispersed to reveal his figure to the animal. It’s fur was a ruddy brown shade, like freshly tilled earth that looked softer to the eyes. It’s side and haunches were stained in large dark patches that matted the fur into knots. Long gouges dug into the tender flesh and ripped along it’s left side. The dog whimpered and panted. With every heave of its chest, more blood seeped out onto the filthy cobblestones. It didn’t notice Jonathan’s presence until he was nearly at its side. The scuff of his shoes on the stones warranted it baring its white teeth in a low snarl.

“It’s alright.” Jonathan soothed, his voice lowered as he crouched down beside the creature. It whined again, a sharp agonized sound as it lifted it’s head to look him in the eyes. It’s own pale blue gazing back at him. There was no sign of ownership, no collar or scarf or even harness to dictate that it had a family or a home. It was well-fed, strong and healthy at first glance. He could see it’s heart thudding away inside its chest, a violent pulsating against its ribcage in fear.

“Shhh.” Jonathan hushed gently, reaching a hand out to caress it’s head. The dog snorted and growled, but the sound remained low in it’s chest as it rested it’s head back into the trash that cluttered the alley. The dark puddles from its side stained the cobblestones in a slick warm pool that was more than certain to draw other skals in to finish the poor thing off. Call him a bleeding heart, but Jonathan couldn’t bear the thought of the poor creature meeting such a brutal end. 

“I’m going to help you.” He spoke reassuringly. “Don’t worry.” Jonathan reached up for the scarf he kept draped around his shoulders and used it to wrap the dog’s hindquarters in an attempt to stem some of the blood flow. The dog peeled back it’s lips in warning when Jonathan jostled it a bit. “My apologies. I’m a human doctor. Dog’s are not my specialty. I hope you can forgive me for that.”

It snorted as if in derision, dropping it’s head back down against the ground as it’s tail tucked between its legs. Jonathan rummaged through his pockets for additional gauze, just enough to hold the dog over until he could get it back to Pembroke. The trip wouldn’t be long, they were just a hop, skip, and a jump away, literally. Though he would avoid using his abilities with the dog as much as possible. He wasn’t aware of how other living creatures, especially animals, handled such a transition and he feared it would vomit and possibly asphyxiate should he try too many times. He had enough trouble with nausea and dizziness himself when learning so he couldn’t imagine that for this poor thing, wounded as it was.

“Alright, this won’t be very pleasant and I do hope you can forgive me.” He warned as he carefully scooped the massive beast up into his arms. It was very hard to do when it was roughly about as big as he was in length. He tried to avoid putting unnecessary pressure on it’s wounds as he cradled it. The dog whimpered and struggled weakly in his grasp as he hurried towards the hospital.

He did have to resort to jumping when he approached the balcony. He didn’t want to have to argue with Nurse Branagan or be scrutinized by Dr. Ackroyd for his choice of  _ patient  _ when he was already being judged for his strange hours, odd appearance and lack of time spent in the operating room. Tonight he would pick his battles, and the only interest he had in fighting, was the one involved with this dog’s life. How hard could it be? Theoretically, a dog wasn’t that much different than a human.

The hound whimpered against his chest and offered a weak wiggle in his arms in a pathetic attempt to pull away. Jonathan gently hushed it as he carried it towards the examination table. It was somewhat comical trying to adjust his hands on the hound and still be able to lay a towel out across the table to cushion it. Blood had already soaked through the gauze and his scarf, effectively ruining the expensive fabric and filling his nostrils with the smell of fresh blood. His jaw ached with the reminder of his hunger, the scent was more appealing to him than the rats in a strange twist but he resisted as he laid the beast down on the table and gently adjusted it’s body so it wouldn’t slip off the edge.

“Stay right here.” He commanded. The dog didn’t move or make a sound. Its eyes closed with a heavy breath exerted through its nostrils now that there wasn’t uncomfortable pressure being put on its wounds. Jonathan was quick to peel off his coat which was also unfortunately stained across the front, and took a moment to scrub up in the sink. He followed his usual routine as if he were performing a procedure on a human patient, moving quickly to gather the supplies he’d need and placing them all carefully on a tray he set up next to the table. The stand was adjusted so it was clear of any kicking paws or wayward tails. With sleeves rolled to his elbows and all his tools at his disposal, he began by slowly peeling away the gauze and fabric to expose the grisly injuries. They looked much worse now in the bright lights of his office where he could see them clearly.

He cleaned, disinfected and sutured the wounds, taking his time with each stitch and deep laceration. Luckily it didn't appear to have severed or damaged any muscles or ligaments but the dog wouldn't be well enough to walk or fend for itself for some time. He spoke quietly through the procedure, soothing it with soft reassurances and praise. 

"You're doing such a good job." Jonathan cooed, glancing towards the dog as he lifted his head. His tail gave the most pitiful attempt at a wag, the tip was bloodied and scraped in superficial wounds. "You're such a brave strong boy. So good for me. Just a little bit longer, okay? Just hang on a little longer and I'll let you sleep."

He bandaged the injuries more securely now, taking his time as he layered the gauze and bound it firmly in place. He checked and cleaned the smaller scratches and cuts, finding they didn't need to be patched up, he started to clean up his tools and scrub his hands of the blood and bits of fur that clung to his fingers. A warm wet rag was used to wash the matted blood away and clean some of the dirt from the dog's paws and face. Jonathan was pleasantly surprised when it didn't growl at him this time. He watched as its tail jumped in a slow thump against the table, an appreciative look in its eyes as he stroked his fingers gently over the crest of his brow and along the top of his muzzle. The fur was softer around his face, much cleaner and silkier. He was healthy, that was for certain and well taken care of.

"It's odd that you don't have a collar." Jonathan hummed, brushing along the dog's neck with his palm. Each stroke was an even pressure that made the canine's tail wag a little faster. 

"Did your owner abandon you? Or did you run away from home?" He inquired. The dog huffed through his muzzle and snorted. Then promptly sneezed on the doctor with no remorse for the disgusting action. Jonathan frowned and examined his ruined shirt. Between the blood and fur, and now the snot, he wouldn't be salvaging this one any time soon. He scooped the pup up carefully in his arms and carried him towards the bed where he proceeded to lay him out comfortably on his cot. Jonathan didn't mind sharing and he presumed if the dog did have an owner that showed so much care for it before, it may be lonely in a new place with a stranger to tend to it. If he could provide even the smallest bit of comfort for the pup in these difficult times, he would gladly do so.

It only took a few minutes for him to change into something clean and more comfortable before returning to his usual work. He checked on the dog a few times, making certain it was warm and wrapped up with a light blanket. He was worried about it sleeping on the floor with the damage to its hindquarters making it harder for its hips, and figured the bed would be a comfort for the healing limbs. Pain didn't appear to be much of a problem. He wondered if animals shared similar tolerances to pain as humans did, varying from creature to creature, or if they experienced pain in an entirely different capacity. It was an intriguing thought that stole his attention as he pondered for several minutes. He had to catch himself before he was whisked away with another hair brained thought, reeling himself back to the task at hand. The very dull and boring task he had been ignoring in the first place. Paperwork was the bane of his existence and unbearably tedious. He of course understood the importance of proper documentation especially regarding their profession but it didn't make it any less frustrating and mind numbing. 

When dawn neared, Jonathan stretched his arms above his head and let a yawn well up from his chest. He groaned, feeling far too stiff from the hunched position as he straightened his back out and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up. He glanced over his shoulder towards his bed and found the dog staring at him with a lazy eye peering out of the blanket. He huffed at Jonathan with a knowing look before burying his snout into the bedding. Jonathan realized he had a ridiculous smile spread across his face with childish delight at the canine's presence. Given his upbringing, he did adore animals very much but living in the heart of London made it very hard to keep a pet. Besides, he was certain Mary was allergic to cats and their father wasn't inclined to add  _ dog walking  _ to Avery's list of things to do throughout the day. As he got older, he grew far too busy to entertain the thought and now, well as much as the idea thrilled him, keeping a pet wouldn't be very fair to the animal. Especially since it will be restricted to his schedule of existing. 

He would need to find its owner soon. He supposed he could put up some posters around town and hopefully somebody will step forward and claim the dog. Until then, the good boy was restricted to his schedule until he could safely walk on his own without whimpering. The dog didn't appear to have any problem with the idea so far. He looked mildly annoyed when Jonathan joined him on the bed but conceded to share the limited space. They rearranged until Jonathan ended up with half a hound stretched across his belly and the rest of it settled across his lap in a lazy half curl. The dog's snout was buried into his shirt as it squeezed its eyes shut and attempted to sleep. Jonathan obliged and pulled the blanket over the both of them until only its snout was sticking out.

  
  
  


The next evening came with its own problems. To have a dog, Jonathan realized, it must have frequent bathroom breaks. When the dog is incapable of using its hind legs, Jonathan was hit with the knowledge that he would need to aid his newest acquisition with relieving itself and staying standing. Add onto this the fact he had to carry it out onto the cobblestones below where it could properly do its business. The dog didn't look anymore pleased about it as Jonathan did, and even growled a few times when Jonathan's hands strayed to sensitive areas along its belly and hips. He apologized respectively and when it finished, it was a quick shot up to the office where both man and beast settled back down.

Now for problem number two. Jonathan was not prepared to feed a dog. He hardly fed himself most days and unless the canine diet involved rats, he would have to go out and find something more substantial to fill its belly. Which also meant leaving it alone. That fact didn't settle well with him at all.

Ensuring the dog was comfortable once more with the blanket draped over it, he brushed a hand over the top of its head with a sigh. "I need to go talk to a friend for a moment, I really need you to behave until I come back." The dog tilted its head only slightly to show it was paying attention, one ear perked but that was all Jonathan got from it. He scratched behind the offered ear and watched it groan pleasantly. Whatever stubbornness it was trying to allude to had shattered as it lounged back into the determined fingers. Jonathan smiled triumphantly as he continued, having secured that really good spot that made all temperamental hounds turn to putty at a single touch.

"If you are an especially good boy, I will bring back a super special treat for you. How does that sound?" The dog grunted and dipped its head in half hearted agreement. Jonathan took that as good enough and stroked the top of its head, smoothing down the ruddy soft fur as he smiled. "I'll be back. Just stay right here."

He headed for the door, grabbing his coat on the way out as he pulled it over his shoulders. He peered back at the dog to check on it only to find it was doing just as he asked. It's head was tucked on top of its paws with a gentle wayward thump of its tail right before he slipped out the door with a murmured. "Good boy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you two chapters in one update. Since I did enjoy writing this so far.

To say this whole situation was humiliating was an understatement. First, a Skal got a lucky shot on him and he had been blindsided by it's claws ripping into his side. He barely managed to escape by the grace of his other half, and then collapsed in a heap of trash expecting this to be the end of him. Fate was a cruel and wicked mistress that cackled in his face when who shall find him in a literal dump than the good and kind Dr. Reid. The resident Leech, an insufferable thorn in his side that drove him mad with every frustrating attempt and failure to hunt the beast down and end him for the sake of his true nature.

That was his job, after all. His _purpose._ He was good at killing leeches. He wasn't supposed to be _saved_ by one. Geoffrey will not admit that he was scared when he first encountered Reid. He was well aware that the doctor had taken to eating rats as his main food source but the terrifying thought had crossed his mind that maybe, if given the chance, he would choose a more substantial meal should the opportunity arise. That being the occasional stray dog or cat.

He hadn't expected the doctor to offer kindness in lieu of sharp biting teeth and claws that rip into flesh with ease. He had expected a quick death. Instead he had been bandaged and cared for. Even pet, cooed at and _cuddled._ Geoffrey refused to acknowledge the fact that his traitorous tail wagged to his dismay.

Reid was a clever bastard, Geoffrey reasoned. He probably hoped to keep him as some sort of live in blood bag to sate his thirst whenever he pleased. That had been his initial expectation but then Reid spoke of owners and homes and Geoffrey spied him already making the posters he had mentioned detailing Geoffrey's appearance. The only good thing he hoped, was that when these fliers were put up around the districts, his men would see them and come to his rescue. He wouldn't have to wait quietly for his imminent death to come.

Or maybe, he would have preferred it. When the sun went down and Reid started to wake, Geoffrey was a squirming uneasy mess. The problem wasn't his wounds. No, the good doctor did a marvelous job of tending to his injuries. The bandages did need to be changed but that wasn't very bothersome. It was the very mortal inconvenience that came with being a beast with a small bladder. It was humiliating.

It was bad enough he needed Reid's assistance to move anywhere at all. But the simple fact that it took the doctor nearly twenty minutes to get that his whining and whimpering with the odd pointed looks towards the balcony door didn't mean _'I'm bored and lonely so give me attention!'_

It meant _'Get me off this cot or so help me I'll piss all over your pillows.'_ He supposed it wouldn't have been that much of a shame had he done so. He doubted the leech would take his anger out on a crippled hound. But then again, Geoffrey made it very obvious rather quickly that Reid's pillows were now his and sufficiently covered them in the ever adoring scent of _dog._

Reid's repetitive apologies only made the whole ordeal more mortifying up until the hunter was carefully placed back onto the comfort of the cot and carefully wrapped up with the doctor's blanket. For a human doctor, he did a pretty good job of handling a dog. Geoffrey will give him that. He was impressed, for a leech. The sweet praises and softened promises didn't steal Geoffrey's heart though as his belly rumbled with that hollow sound. He idly missed the communal cooking and his Second's paternal look when he brought up his meals to his office, or practically manhandled Geoffrey down to sit at the table with the rest of the men and partake in supper before patrols. All he had to look forward to now was whatever meal the leech could scrounge up, which didn't bode well for him he expected.

Reid promised tasty morsels as he scratched behind his ears and swore him to behave. The only security in that was his current crippled status and the fact he couldn't leave the cot even if he wanted to. And frankly, he was far too comfortable to do so. He was warm, the bed was nice for his aching bones and definitely beat sleeping on the floor. He did have to respect the fact Reid was far more generous to a hound than most folks were. Anyone else wouldn't have given him a second thought in that alleyway. They would have put him out of his misery or turned him into scrap food. And they certainly wouldn't have welcomed a _mangy stray_ into their beds. Even purebreds didn't receive that kind of luxury in most homes.

Geoffrey should have expected the betrayal when the door opened and the scent that neared his nostrils was _not_ Jonathan. He lifted his head to inspect the creeping stare that fixated on him from the doorway and felt his stomach sink when he spotted none other than Swansea watching him through his wire rimmed spectacles. He adjusted them higher up the bridge of his nose with a bewildered expression that said Jonathan had only _just_ informed him of their impromptu guest. Swansea frowned with a mildly disgusted look directed at him. At least that fact didn't change much. Luckily Swansea wasn't aware that the _Woodsman_ he feared was really the _Big Bad Wolf_ of the story. Now Carl? Carl was the woodsman that saved Geoffrey's life and turned him into the hunter he was today.

What a sorry mess he was in now. He lamented the situation and ignored the bitter sting of his thoughts as he pondered what Carl would think of him now. The fearsome Geoffrey McCullum, scourge to the vampire threat, now no more than a lapdog in the lair of one and at the mercy of the Brotherhood of St Paul Stole on top of that. He was just appreciative that his true nature wasn't known to the Brotherhood. Talltree may have had an inkling as to what he was but the man had enough respect not to expand that detail to the rest of their ranks. Geoffrey was genuinely afraid that other hunters or Brothers of the Stole would come after him for his strange lineage.

It was a very little known secret that a small pack of lycanthropes lived in the rural parts of Ireland and a few small families still carried the blood line. Most of them were highly diluted from centuries of mixing with mortals. The gene had become a recessive one which Geoffrey inherited from his mother. Ian wasn't as lucky as to receive it and it made him susceptible to turning when their father came back a vampire. From what Geoffrey learned with Carl's help, was that his family lineage could be traced all the way back to the Hound of Cu Chulainn, an epic hero of Irish Folklore that was also secretly a werewolf. A werewolf in its truest most destructive form and not the domesticated wolfhounds they resembled today.

It certainly made for an interesting childhood and a startling surprise for Carl when the orphaned boy he took in and cared for, one day turned into a destructive wolfhound pup that chewed up his slippers and marked the furniture. Geoffrey had been petrified that Carl would turn him away, or worse, put him out of his misery for not being like other normal children. But Carl simply scooped up the naked crying child, cleaned him up and talked to him for a long time about what he was. Werewolves were protectors of Ireland. They were the guard dogs that kept the people and the land safe from invaders and those that would do it harm. It wasn't the same as the leech plague that besieged England. Geoffrey was welcomed with open arms into Priwen's fold and raised to hunt beside the elder man.

Swansea slowly edged into Jonathan’s office as he took the opportunity to inspect his head surgeon’s newest acquisition. Geoffrey scowled at him along the bridge of his muzzle, his pale blue eyes followed the Administrator as he worked his way closer across the room. Geoffrey could tell Swansea was trying to avoid eye contact with him as if the hound would leap and rip his throat out the moment their gazes met. It was an entirely tempting idea if Geoffrey did say so himself, were he not currently indisposed from the waist down. He bared his teeth in a warning, lips curled back and ears drawn when the doctor veered closer.

“It’s alright boy.” Swansea lifted his hands in a placating gesture, offering the back of his hand to Geoffrey to smell. Maybe if he wasn’t a human on the inside, the offer would have quelled other canines. But Geoffrey knew the man that stood before him. He was more than familiar with his stench of deceit and that quiet little mask he wore. The hunter couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that made Swansea the sneaky little weasel he was but Geoffrey had a funny feeling in his gut about the man from the first day they met. He didn’t trust him at all. On the other hand, Jonathan never gave Geoffrey that sickening worm like sensation in his stomach. That wriggling nagging parasitic sensation like something foul was eating away at him. The fact he was a leech did cause him to feel anxious in the ekon’s presence but that was the extent of his uncertainty. That was more knowledge than instinct.

Geoffrey snarled at the doctor when he got too close, working his way down the length of the cot in an attempt to inspect the hound’s wounded hindquarters. Oh, how he wished he could turn back now and scream at the man. He bet the look on his face would be priceless but the damage would be too much for his human half to deal with. The wounds would probably even paralyze him. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take, even if the shock factor would be enough to enjoy in his final moments. And he refused to live with the knowledge that Swansea would know what he was. The man had a strange way in how he viewed the inhuman.

Swansea was a determined bastard, Geoffrey will give him that. Every growl and flash of sharp teeth was ignored by nervous shuffling and a careful attempt to get just out of the hound’s reach but still be able to inspect the wounds. He peeled the blanket back to bare Geoffrey’s hindquarters to the cooler air of the office. The bandages needed to be changed. There were dark patches that could be seen through the layers of gauze. Geoffrey suspected Jonathan would do it when he returned from whatever task he had rushed off to complete.

Swansea appeared to take the activity upon himself and started to peel the gauze off. A deafening howl ripped from his chest causing the doctor to stumble away just as Geoffrey lunged forward. Teeth barely grazed the doctor’s fingers in a final desperate warning. Geoffrey may be vulnerable but like hell is he going to roll over and let someone like Swansea do as they please. He was putting his foot (paw) down. Swansea held his hands up in self-defense as he nearly shouted. “By the Stole! Fine! Fine! Jonathan can deal with you when he gets back.”

Geoffrey gave the doctor a wicked triumphant grin, showing all of his lovely teeth in a wolfish smile. Swansea’s anxiety was hiked up, his pulse thudded quickly in his chest. Geoffrey could _smell_ the pungent odor of his fear. It was a shame he didn’t make the man piss himself. It would have been quite the sight to see. Once the doctor vacated the room, Geoffrey went back to work using his teeth to gently pull the blanket back around himself and tuck it in. He shuffled and shifted to get comfortable and resumed his ownership of Jonathan’s pillows. He released a deep breath as he relaxed against the cot. Every inhale was filled with the ekon’s scent. It wasn’t like a mortal man’s where there was a biological pheromone attached. It was more of the things that Geoffrey would expect to associate with a man like him. Disinfectant, herbs, gun oil, the lightest hints of goat’s milk soap and mint and the slightest undertone of blood. It was familiar nonetheless and strangely comforting to be surrounded by.

Geoffrey managed to secure some sleep and ignore the burning pain in his hind legs and the itchiness that accompanied old bandages. He shifted, flopped around and stretched, then curled back up to no avail. Eventually he gave in and scrounged for what little bits of sleep he could claw at and keep, hoping to speed up the time around him until Jonathan returned. His fretful dreams were riddled with his own anxieties involving his predicament and the very real fear that he won’t return to Priwen again. There was a terrifying addition of Swansea and what hectic and deadly experiments he would concoct if he discovered the truth. His abnormal fascination with ekons didn’t go unnoticed by either Talltree or the Guard of Priwen.

Geoffrey was awoken by the sound of footsteps on the balcony and the creaking hinges of the door as Jonathan stepped through the entrance. It was a welcomed sight for the hound as he lifted his head to inspect the Ekon and the large bag he carried on his arm. Jonathan quickly shut the door behind himself and smiled in greeting towards Geoffrey. The hound was not at all amused when the baby talk started up again. 

"I'm back. Were you a good boy? I brought you something to eat. I really do hope you like it." He admitted as he moved towards the bed and casually stroked a hand along Geoffrey's head. The hunter was only mildly annoyed with the gesture mostly because he didn't think to avoid it with a well placed growl. He watched closely as Jonathan carried the bag towards his desk and started unpacking each gaudy tin. There was also a couple dishes he had purchased which he promptly filled one with clean water and started on the other by unleashing the ungodly foul concoction of horse meat scraps and other additions that made up the horrendous slop that was dog food. Jonathan's nose crinkled in sympathetic disgust as he approached Geoffrey with the bowls. He placed them down on the floor and moved to help the hound off the bed, only to find his bandages had not been changed. 

"Oh, I thought I asked Edgar to fix your bandages." He huffed in what Geoffrey could only assume was frustrated disappointment before he quickly went about doing it himself. Geoffrey resigned himself to the routine and relished in the fresh wrappings that padded his hindquarters. Jonathan's hands were very gentle around the tender spots along his flank as he inspected the reddened skin for signs of infection. He cleaned around the area with a warm wet cloth and examined the tissue carefully before wrapping each wound. He stopped every minute or so to pet along Geoffrey's scruff or smooth a hand over his head and scratch behind his ears in soft spoken praise.

"You're such a good boy." He cooed, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Geoffrey's head, causing the hound to huff in derision. He glared at the leech, directing his best disapproving look towards the man, but it only elicited more attention that resulted in Geoffrey's traitorous tail thumping the bed. "Such a sweet boy, yes you are. I can't imagine why someone would abandon you." Jonathan preened as he finished up and gave Geoffrey's belly one good long rub.

The hunter was hopeless to the affections. His touch starved nerves relished in the attention and he was a puddle of eager whines and a wiggle or two that was absolutely shameful as he kicked a leg out and asked for more. Jonathan obliged, his fingers sinking into the fur as he tenderly rubbed and scratched, finding all those blissful wonderful spots that were just out of reach and reducing Geoffrey to a pile of heavenly pupper. He swore on his sword, this was some sort of leechy trick. The doctor was clever, he did something to tear the Irishman's guard down.

It was over far too soon as Jonathan adjusted his grip on Geoffrey and carefully scooped him up, gently laying him on the ground beside the bowls so he could eat. He even laid out a couple of folded towels to cushion his hips against the hard floor and make him comfortable. The dog food looked about as disgusting as it smelled, and that was saying something. Geoffrey figured skals and sewer beasts smelled better and those had him nearly gagging a few times. He extended a paw and shoved the bowl full of the dog food away, pushing it carefully so it wouldn't spill the slimy fatty puddle of fluid that congealed at the bottom. He didn't like the leech doctor but he wasn't a complete and total ass.

Instead he focused on the bowl of water and greedily gulped his way down to the bottom. He ignored the sensation of eyes watching him from a distance, more than aware that Jonathan was observing him for any odd behavior. He supposed he could always play the part of the sick and wounded hound, too ill to eat but that might end up with a tube down his throat and the putrid vile food being shoveled in. If the leech thought he was someone's pampered pet, then maybe he could work off of that. If West End dogs were as snooty and pompous as their owners, he could get away with it he supposed.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the office opened. Geoffrey's head swiveled to find the mousy expression of Swansea peering between the frame.

"Oh good, you're back!" The Administrator cheered, his anxiety soothing with Jonathan's presence. The doctor was currently leaning with his hip against his workbench, arms folded over his chest in that way that showed a man in his element. Proud and confident. He wore the air of a pompous West Ender with modesty, Geoffrey had to give him that. He wasn't the snobby type that the hunter expected to find lurking the streets. There were enough of those types around.

Jonathan raised a questioning brow at Swansea. "Edgar, I thought I asked you to change his bandages."

Swansea stepped further into the room and blurted defensively. "I tried Jonathan, I really did. But that _beast_ nearly took my hand off. I was afraid it would maul me." Geoffrey growled as Swansea stepped too close to his hind end and nearly took his tail with the tip of his shoe. He snapped at the doctor's ankle, causing him to yelp and jump away. 

Jonathan's eyes widened in surprise, causing him to stand bolt upright prepared to intervene. Geoffrey sneered and turned back to his bowl of water and tucked his tail close to his side. "I see that now." Jonathan sighed tiredly. 

"I believe something may be wrong with it." Swansea offered sympathetically. "It is very aggressive after all."

"Edgar, it's been through a lot. Just look at him. He can't even walk on his own. I bet he's scared and confused. I know I was when I found you." Jonathan gestured towards Geoffrey and dropped to kneel beside the hunter. He smoothed his palm over his shoulders and down his back, stopping short of where the bandages wrapped over his hips. He brushed his knuckles back up along his neck and jaw in reassuring motions. Geoffrey ignored the soft groan that left his chest with a shuddering snort. "See. He just needs someone who understands him. He's not a bad boy, are you?"

The tiny thump of his tail was an automatic reaction and Geoffrey hated himself for it. As well as the way he leaned his head into Jonathan's touch when he scratched behind his ear already well versed with where to find that good spot that made his leg twitch.

"If he attacks anyone else, I'll have to ask you to get rid of him Jonathan. Do you understand? This is a hospital. The patients and their safety comes first." Swansea affirmed.

"He won't cause any trouble, Edgar. He can't even stand on his own." Jonathan reminded. "As far as I'm concerned, he is my patient." The sour expression on Swansea's face was worth it for Geoffrey as his lips curled to show the barest amount of teeth. "Look! He looks like he's smiling." 

The amount of excitement and joy that brought from the doctor was a feeling that made Geoffrey's heart beat a little faster and his tail speed up. Never before had he heard or seen such an emotion from Reid, a simplistic delight in something so small as Geoffrey just _smiling._ He supposed it would be remarkable given the fact he was a dog, and dogs don't normally smile but that was beside the point. Geoffrey couldn't ignore the broad grin that little action spread on the doctor's face or the fact it made his belly fill with a jubilant warmth. Or maybe it was indigestion. It was hard to tell these things when he was a dog. He can't be held accountable for the strange goings on inside his guts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm a nerd for the story of Cu Chulainn and since his battle tales sound similar to werewolves or Nordic Berserkers, I thought, why not make him a true werewolf? And so yeah, Geoffrey is related to the Epic Irish Folk Hero Cu Chulainn. 
> 
> His bloodline is so diluted though that they no longer look like the giant monstrous battle enraged beasts, but big ol fluffy Irish Wolfhounds. Makes it a tad easier to hide in plain sight too.


	3. Chapter 3

“Why are you not eating?” Jonathan’s voice was soft and riddled with concern as he knelt beside the hound. It had been two hours since he placed the food in front of him and any attempts to coax the dog to try it would result in a paw or snout pushing it away and the one time the dog sneezed in his face and yawned boredly. He watched with a pained expression as the hound wiggled away from the bowls and whined, nudging it’s head back towards the cot where it silently asked for help back up onto the comfort of the bed. It’s front paws and good hind leg pushed itself along in a lazy and uncomfortable belly crawl.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He cooed soothingly as he gently scooped the hound up onto the bed, adjusting it’s head so it would rest in his lap and he could stroke it’s ears in gentle motions. It squirmed at first in discomfort before giving in as Jonathan tucked the blanket back around its body to keep it warm. “You need to eat.” He spoke gently. “Otherwise you won’t have the strength to get better.”

He knew that the dog probably didn’t understand a single thing he was saying. He doubted this pep talk would change anything about it’s eating habits but it felt necessary. He supposed it was purely due to his habit of handling so many human patients that not maintaining a level of communication with something he was caring for felt strange and oddly neglectful.

“Do you just have an upset belly?” He cooed, his gaze leveled on the hound as it’s eyes rolled up to stare at him with a dismissive shake of its head and a huff. It licked its lips and settled it’s head back into his lap and submitted to the slow idle strokes of the doctor’s hand. Jonathan thought it over for a few minutes. He needed to get the dog to eat something if he was to make a full recovery. If he didn’t eat normal dog food, then maybe his previous owner had far more expensive tastes? It was far too late in the evening to run to the store but he was certain he could find something for the hound to eat before morning. Pembroke had a small kitchen that the nurse’s frequently tended to to feed the patients. He would replace what he took but given the situation, he didn’t exactly have much choice in the matter.

“Stay here and be a good boy. I’m going to find you something to eat.” Jonathan assured as he rose up from the bed slowly. He waited for the hound to get comfortable again before slipping away through his office door. The night was late and many of the patients were sound asleep in their beds around the hospital. The sparse few that were still awake were being tended to by the dedicated medical staff at Pembroke working day and night to put a stop to the spread of the epidemic. It was a short trip down the hall and down the stairs that led to the main floor. He skirted around the nurse’s desk, ensuring that Branagan was nowhere in sight before briskly darting down an adjacent hallway towards the kitchen and bathing rooms. It was tucked a little further into the larger portion of the building, much of which was boarded off in areas due to structural damage from the bombings earlier on in the war. It was a slow progress by daylight hours with what workers were available.

The kitchen wasn’t anything big or extravagant, especially not with the meager funds the Pembroke managed to function on in their current desperate state. The day shift prepared food for every evening and morning during the afternoons, quick and easy meals for the entire hospital that the nurse’s could dole out accordingly to the patients. As Jonathan perused the coolers and ice boxes, it appeared that most of what they had were soups. He feared that a diet that was too liquid for a canine would lead to _other_ complications and he was not in the mood to handle that mess in his office. Both in a professional sense and as a personal preference.

He probably stood in there for a ridiculous amount of time looking absolutely and painfully perplexed. He knew dogs overall had certain dietary restrictions. Some foods were inherently bad. Some were good. He had a rough estimate that eggs and meat were good but that was hearsay from companions and colleagues who owned dogs themselves oftentimes for sport purposes.

He was terribly uninformed about the good and the bad of caring for a canine or an animal of any sort. This was why he could only care for plants. It was a miracle that Lisa lived as long as she has for him since he did sometimes forget to water her. That was entirely his fault, he will admit. He supposed now is as good of a time to start learning. With a heavy sigh, he reached into one of the iceboxes and found a few links of blood sausage. “Dogs like sausage, right?” He pondered aloud.

“Did you say something, Dr. Reid?” His head snapped up to find the very petite figure of Nurse Finch standing in the doorway with a tray in hand with empty dishes stacked precariously atop it. He could smell the faint aroma of the fish broth and herbal tea she made, a similar scent that permeated the kitchen from earlier in the day.

“Oh, I’m just….” He gestured with a hand still holding the sausages in his grasp. She raised her brow questioningly, dark chocolate eyes inspecting his now rather natural pallor and puzzled expression. Her brown locks bounced where they were pinned with her easy steps towards the counter to deliver the tray by the sink. She turned sharply on her heels to face him. His taller larger frame towered over her, causing him to tilt his head at an angle to meet her scrutinizing look. Her hands fisted on her hips in a very maternal way that reminded him of his own mother in her younger years when he was up to mischief with Clarence.

“If you’re hungry Dr. Reid, I can make you a proper meal.” She offered, giving the sausages a dismissive glance. “What would you like?”

“Apologies Nurse Finch, but these aren’t for me.” He blurted quickly catching onto her misunderstanding. He held the sausages up with a quizzical look aimed his way and sighed. His free hand cradled the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. “I have an unusual patient that has fallen into my care. One of the canine sort. I’ve never taken care of a dog in all my life and I will admit I am a bit defeated in how to handle all of this.” He admitted.

“Oh! Well, why didn’t you say so? I have a little puppy of my own. How big is it? Does it have a name yet?” She chimed cheerfully. “Do you know how old it is?”

“I’m afraid not.” Jonathan was more flustered about the array of questions that he wasn’t very keen on the answers to. He scratched at his jaw and waved the sausages around pointedly. “He’s not eating the food I bought him earlier and the poor boy is badly wounded and cannot stand on his own. I’ve been keeping him up in my office for now.”

“May I see him? I might be able to offer some assistance if you don’t mind.”

“I’m certain there is no harm in that. He seems a bit particular about the people around him. I believe he may have survived a very traumatic experience.” Jonathan explained, turning to lead Nurse Finch out of the kitchen and towards his office. He had to hide the sausages behind his back when passing Nurse Branagan whose steely eyes watched him like a hawk. Jonathan felt like a child being scolded for sneaking snacks and he was technically her superior. It was a rather odd sensation that left him feeling uneasy until they reached the door to his office.

He opened it to find the hound was just as he had left him, stretched out across his cot with the only adjustment being the newly filched pillow that the dog had dragged down the mattress and tucked under its head. He was a resourceful one at least. 

"Oh my. He's really big." Nurse Finch gasped in awe of the hound as she stepped into the office, shutting the door behind them. Jonathan gestured with his free hand towards the bed, a quiet invitation for her to inspect the pup. Nurse Finch smiled, a giddy thrill rushing through her before she schooled herself into a state of calm and crouched down to slowly approach the canine. Jonathan observed the interaction with bated breath, already well aware of what transpired between Swansea and the hound.

He watched as Nurse Finch offered a hand extended out towards the dog allowing him a chance to sit up and sniff her fingers. When he headbutted the touch and nuzzled his snout into her palm in acceptance, both were pleasantly surprised. Nurse Finch grinned in approval and stroked her fingers over his head, tucking the pads of her fingers behind his ears to seek out that one special spot that would draw out a deep groan of satisfaction from the pup. 

"Who's a good boy?" She cooed excitedly, rubbing her palm down the back of his head and along his shoulders as she eased her hands towards his belly. Each progressive sweep of her fingers was measured to ensure she wasn't touching any tender or sore spots that would unsettle the dog. She adjusted the blanket to inspect the bandages along his side and smiled. "So handsome. Such a brave boy. You certainly survived something terrible by the looks of it. Such a strong boy."

"He has made himself at home it seems." Jonathan gestured towards his bed which was now thoroughly claimed by the massive dog. His pillows and blankets were already covered in fur and the smell of dog that seeped into the fabric. The hound stretched his front paws out in front of him as if accentuating on the declaration without a care in the world for boundaries.

"Did you name him yet?" Nurse Finch inquired, glancing back up at Jonathan from her crouch.

"No, I hadn't considered it. I do intend to find his owner, or at least try to. I can't imagine someone would leave such a sweet dog on the streets." He sighed wistfully. He knew that if he named it, he wouldn't want to give it up. It was a risk that lingered in his mind. And Jonathan was ashamed to say he really wanted to keep the dog as his own. He had heard of the therapeutic effects animals have on people and stress levels, and the idea of companionship didn't hurt either. It was a rather lonely life the Ekon lived and he understood to an extent what it was like to wake up, wounded, confused and frightened in a new world he had no clue about. He supposed being abandoned on the streets and subjected to a similar situation of being hunted by a monster didn't help the dog at all. He appeared wary and hesitant around new people, or at least just men so far. Which made him wonder if his previous loving owner was a woman.

"Such a shame. He's such a sweet boy." Nurse Finch cooed. "I'll pick something up for him tomorrow that he might find appetizing." She assured. "He looks healthy."

She cradled the hound's jaw and lifted his head just enough to see better in the dim lighting. "Can I see your teeth please?" She coaxed while gently opening its mouth. "He has his adult teeth so he's not a puppy anymore." She ruffled her fingers through his fur around his head and neck. "But that doesn't mean you're not a puppy at heart, huh?"

The dog melted against her touch and flopped over to expose his belly as her fingers spread across his stomach and side. Jonathan smiled in amusement and watched as Nurse Finch played with him for a few more minutes. "I'd hate to go but I do need to get back to work." She sighed wistfully, giving the hound another scratch behind the ears. "If you need anything, Dr. Reid, just ask. I have a dog named Honey myself. If it wasn't for the fact that she's a girl, I'd offer to take him in."

"I really appreciate the sentiment, Nurse Finch. If I think of anything, I will come straight to you." He smiled warmly in reassurance. "Thank you so much."

She nodded and pushed herself back up to her feet and straightened up with a subtle stretch. "Be a good boy for the doctor." She cooed, leaning down to give him one last lingering scratch. "You're so soft. Oh my gosh." The dog groaned in satisfaction before giving a small huff of frustration when the attentive fingers left his fur. As Nurse Finch departed, Jonathan sat down beside the hound and resumed what she had started.

"I did promise you something tasty, remember?" He spoke up, one hand full of warm fur and soft belly as he scrubbed his palm along the dog's stomach and up along his chest. "How about this? Will this do?"

Jonathan held up the filched blood sausages for the hound to sniff at. He rolled back over onto his belly with an eager woof that left his chest. Blue eyes bright, ears perked and a tail thumping excitedly against the bed as Jonathan peeled the casing away from the links and cut a piece away using his claws. It wasn't the most responsible way he has used his ekon abilities, but when scissors and scalpels were absent, he found his claws often made a suitable substitute.

Jonathan feared for a moment that he would lose his fingertips when he held the chunk of sausage out to the pup. "Gently, alright? There is plenty where that came from." He assured. The dog had crawled closer to the doctor with each desperate bite until he was half in Jonathan's lap with his head cocked back. It took a few bites before he mastered gentle bites, holding it between his front teeth before tipping it back so the chunk would roll onto his tongue where he could better maneuver it to his teeth. Jonathan peppered praise and pets in between each one, rubbing the hound's head and shoulders in approval for the renewed appetite. 

"Maybe you were a little more spoiled before." He hummed thoughtfully as he finished off one link and started to peel the second. The hound nudged his hands with its snoot, demanding he go faster and give it more meat. The doctor laughed and barely managed to free the sausage before sneaky teeth stole the entire end half from his grip. "Hey! That wasn't very gentlemanly of you." Jonathan scolded but it was light hearted. The words were met with a derisive snort as if the hound were judging him for even considering the thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Well, these were some strange times indeed. Geoffrey didn't expect Jonathan to leave him alone in the office then return with a Nurse. But not just any Nurse. Out of all the possible staff for the ekon to bring back to his office, it just so happened to be the lass his second-in-command was courting. That will definitely make for an awkward conversation over dinner when O'Connor finds out his fiance rubbed Geoffrey's belly and gave him praise. In all fairness, she was not aware of the Priwen leader's secret.

Geoffrey ignored the thought in lieu of stealing bites of sausages from Reid's fingers. His belly rumbled and growled with a roaring hunger which may have made him forget his manners momentarily. He had a get out of jail card for that one, he swears. He is just a very hungry dog. He can't be held accountable for his impulses around food. Part of the reason he never lingered around the kitchen at HQ when O'Connor was making supper. If he caught even the slightest whiff, his rational mind would be assaulted by his other half's sudden urge to go bother the man for sneak treats and a taste. He could probably pull his weight around a little bit and get away with it, but the few times when he did belly up to the table early O'Connor gave him this _look_ that was judging him for indirectly begging. Geoffrey swears just sitting at the table a _little_ bit early (half an hour early) does not constitute as begging. He's just taking a seat and enjoying a cup of tea before the meal. It's entirely innocent. He is not that weak willed of a man that he would _beg._

Okay, maybe a little. Especially when he was a kid. He was insufferable and was always pawing at his mother's heels for biscuits before dinner. And that habit followed him over when Carl took him in. If Carl just so happened to leave a plate unguarded with something tasty on it for a moment and it just so happened to be missing when he came back, it was not related to the tail sticking out from beneath the table. That was purely coincidence.

Geoffrey's gluttonous encounter with sausages was only the beginning of being spoiled with actually decent food in his canine form that wasn't processed in a can and looked like the kind of shite a Sewer Beast would puke up. As the next day rolled on by, he was feeling more secure in his recovery to try supporting himself with that back leg. It hurt at first, which was expected but he managed to climb off the cot all on his own without any assistance from Jonathan. The ekon had thrown the bowl of dog food away and rinsed out the dish, replacing it with the fresher more appetizing meat scraps and cuts that Nurse Finch brought from her home that she often fed to her dog. Jonathan mashed up a few cooked vegetables on the side and mixed them in to add to the nutritional value. If Geoffrey squinted really hard, it could probably sort of pass for a pot roast dinner. A very raw not at all cooked roast with some bloody bits congealed and clinging to the gristle. If he were human, he'd be sick to his stomach at just the thought. But since he's a werewolf, well different body meant different diet and all kinds of complicated shite that usually followed these sorts of things. He _lived_ it all and he still wasn't entirely sure what all added up to make certain things a certain way.

Sadly, he knew more about vampires than he did about his own species. Carl had helped him as best he could, but the werewolves of Ireland were steeped in so much overshadowed mythology and folklore that got so confused and covered up over the centuries between all the in fighting, change overs and also the interference of the Church, that it was hard to tell what was fact and what was a big heaping pile of shite. There were some mentions of Druid involvement but even they had been run out long enough ago that what few records might have survived in those years would be long gone or beyond deciphering. Old dead languages and all. He had even requested O'Connor's assistance in sussing out information but both of them turned up empty handed or just reconfirming that which was already known.

"You're getting around much better now." Geoffrey's deep ponderings were interrupted by the leech doctor who returned from his usual rounds about the hospital. He spied Geoffrey sitting next to the now empty bowls. Not a single speck of food remained leaving the bowl nice and shiny for the bright lights of the office to gleam off of. Geoffrey licked his chops with a look of deep seated satisfaction with a full belly. He tilted his head to greet the ekon and show he was paying a little bit of attention to him.

Jonathan stole his complete and total attention when he pulled a parcel from beneath the coat he had folded over his arm. It was neatly wrapped and marked with his name on it. It looked fancy from the design logo, one that Geoffrey estimated was located in the West End. "Just a bit of good food and rest does wonders it seems." He cheered pleasantly.

Geoffrey perked up to inspect the box as Jonathan moved to his desk and started to pry it open carefully. Geoffrey squinted at the doctor, sniffing the air for any tells or signs that this may be something of interest to him. Part of him thought it contained food. Another part of him, the more rational and obviously smarter side of his brain assumed it was simply special equipment for the doctor and his profession.

It would turn out that both are incorrect. Instead inside the box was an expensive leather belt that Geoffrey quickly realized was a collar only when Jonathan started to walk towards him. He knelt in front of the hunter and showed him the item, smoothing his fingers over the soft padded curves on the inside and the little silver plate on the outside fixed into it that detailed a single name. 

_Arthur_

Below it was the inscription.

_If found, please return to Dr. Jonathan Reid of the Pembroke Hospital._

"I know I'm still waiting for your owner to step forward and claim you, but well…" Jonathan's voice trailed off with a sheepish tone. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled down at Geoffrey. "Nurse Finch says that it would be more beneficial if you had a name and a safe place to belong. With the new collar, I can take you on proper walks." He rationalized. "You'd like that, right?" He reached out to stroke the side of Geoffrey's face before slipping the collar around his throat.

Geoffrey froze momentarily as he processed what exactly was going on. He was being collared by the leech doctor. He was _owned_ by the leech doctor now. It would be temporary, he understood that but in some odd way he felt bitterly conflicted about it all. His stomach did a strange toss and he was caught between feeling mortified by the idea and strangely excited all at once. Maybe it was the food. He tried to supply. He wondered a bit late now, if Jonathan had crushed some sort of drug or medication into his meal before giving it to him. He didn't see the doctor fix the food up, he had come up with it already prepared and warm in a bowl. His head felt dizzy with a whirlwind of emotions rushing upon him while Jonathan straightened and adjusted the collar, ensuring it was snug but not too constricting. He slipped a finger between the collar and Geoffrey's throat and smiled. He pat him on the head with a triumphant look that made the hunter half compelled to regurgitate the meal in his stomach.

He squashed his unease and cut down the tendrils of paranoia that started to eat at his mind. It was a simple misunderstanding obviously. Jonathan was only doing what he thought people typically do with dogs. Geoffrey wasn't a dog, obviously and the leech wasn't aware of that fact. None of this had any relation to Geoffrey as a person. They were two separate entities in the doctor's mind. It's not like any of this was on purpose or with the express intent to pull at one of the oldest fears ingrained into the Irishman since he was a little pup tucked against his Momma's breast. A fear that was only magnified more by Priwen's knowledge on the Brotherhood and their strange ways with the inhuman.

“I hope you don’t mind the name I’ve chosen.” Jonathan hummed. “Arthur felt right in a way. You’re strong and courageous and a bit stubborn like someone else I know.” The teasing tone bubbled to his lips with a laugh. “He has this _fascination_ with King Arthur. I suppose it's more of an idol to him- _anyway_!” Jonathan shook his head as he smoothed his palms across the sides of Geoffrey’s face. The longing look that swelled in his eyes was a fleeting one that the doctor dismissed quickly with a sigh that sounded a bit too longing. 

“If the name is fitting enough for a knight, I suppose it’s fitting for a dog as well. A very brave and resilient dog.” Jonathan scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I know you probably already have a name but considered this maybe like knighting? More of an honorary title.” He sighed heavily. “I’m just rambling now, my apologies. You don’t even understand a single thing I’m saying, do you?”

He punctuated the thought with a quick ruffle of his fingers atop Geoffrey’s head as he drew away. “The truth of the matter is, I’m so terribly lonely that even a dog and a potted plant are enough companionship to keep me somewhat sane.” The dry laugh that left Jonathan’s throat was painful to Geoffrey’s ears. The ekon looked miserable at the declaration. His shoulders sagged in defeat. His head hung as he scrubbed his palm over his face with a heavy exasperated sound.

Geoffrey never really considered what immortality would be like. He knew it had its perks, the power and influence of the Ascalon club was one nod towards the ideal status of Vampiric society. Their reach even extended to the Brotherhood of St Paul’s Stole with quiet promises of loyalty to the Crown. For King and Country. Despite the fact they were just as self-serving as any other aristocratic social club.

No, Jonathan was not a part of that tight knit society of ekons. He hung so far outside their ring of influence, flailing in the tidal abyss of a new and very confusing world. He had no friends he could confide in. No family that could support him. At least in his short mortal life, Geoffrey had Carl and he had Priwen when his darkest hours were upon him. He had friends and men he could trust with his life. Jonathan on the other hand, he had a place to belong but it wasn’t the same. He stayed so distant from his coworkers, his profession was all he could fall back on and the restrictions of both his diet and his routine prevented him from reaching out to other potentially normal people. 

Geoffrey realized for the first time just how isolated the doctor was. How cold and lonely this side of immortality was. How sad the doctor truly felt about it all. He wore a finely veiled mask with warm smiles plastered expertly across as if crafted by the finest and most skilled artisans, a talent he supposed came from years of playing the game in the social scene of West End mingling and evening parties. When he was among his coworkers, his smile became sympathetic or more professionally neutral. Then when the doors shut and the curtains were drawn, it all fell away into little pieces of shattered porcelain, a piero of sorrow etched into skin that molded handsome features into a ghastly extension of grief.

It reminded Geoffrey of the smile Jonathan shared with him the day prior. That brilliant authentic delight that would be far more at home bundled up in the warmth of a child’s heart. Not delicately placed over the jagged and scarred face of a man so distraught and broken as it was. It was the most tender and realistic expression that stretched up from his faintly flushed cheeks to the deeply hypnotic eyes that beckoned to him like water to a dehydrated man. It fed into this stream of life that blossomed across every aspect of Jonathan’s person, until it inevitably wilted as all beautiful and precious things do. Always far too quickly for Geoffrey’s liking.

Geoffrey watched with a sympathetic expression as Jonathan addressed the box and dug out a long leather leash that was carefully folded up in his grasp. He unfurled it and held the end out towards Geoffrey in a quiet show. “Are you up for a little walk?” He inquired softly, a small hesitant smile gracing his lips. Geoffrey shifted in his spot in contemplation before bowing to the whims of his own biology and the fact his only way down to the streets was a fifteen foot drop below. He huffed and took a couple stiff steps towards Jonathan and waited for the doctor to slip the clip through the ring on the collar and help him outside in a quick flash of shadows and mist.

The cobblestones were cool beneath his paws as Geoffrey lumbered slowly by the Ekon's side. He had adjusted easily to being able to move about on his own but was more than aware of the limited motion of his hind leg. If he moved the wrong way, he could feel the strain of the stitches pulling against the motion. It was immensely uncomfortable and the last thing the hunter needed was the doctor fretting over him endlessly again. They made a full circle around the hospital and Geoffrey’s shame at being forced to do his business in the open like some beast was mortifying. Now, doing it of his own choice when he was wandering about and spitefully marking the gates of the Ascalon Club was one thing. Taking a shit outside the door of Booth Digby’s office so the man would step on it the moment he stepped through the threshold was extremely satisfying, even more so when Geoffrey would paw at the door then quickly race off down the dock to tuck out of view and watch from his hiding spot. Booth’s irate screams and disgust as he gagged and cursed while glaring down at his shoes made for a fulfilling evening if Geoffrey did say so himself.

But this? This was humiliating. He had adopted the habit of glaring at Jonathan pointedly until the doctor raised a brow at the stubborn expression and the sharp growl until he got the very stern message. He would turn around with a quick mumbled and flustered apology, the end of the leash still wound into his hand with slack in the line as he offered a modicum of privacy for the hound. Geoffrey could hear the muffled amused laughter that huffed in the doctor’s throat at the dog’s demand for modesty. When he was finished, he slinked past as a silent determined directive to keep moving. Jonathan easily fell into step alongside Geoffrey’s lead and allowed him the chance to sniff, wander and explore all the little nooks and crannies he hadn’t had much opportunity to do otherwise.

There was a strange sort of freedom in this predicament, a silent and very tiny mercy that allowed Geoffrey an uninterrupted access to the most sensitive places. Such as being able to spy and eavesdrop on Swansea when he wasn’t paying attention. This came when Jonathan gave him a boost back to the balcony and took him along his side on a much shorter length of leash held tightly in his grasp, towards the Administrator’s office. From what Jonathan alluded to in his idle conversation to Geoffrey during their walk, was he had some important issues to discuss with the Administrator. 

Geoffrey assumed this would be some super secret juicy bit of information he could turn on the ekon later, but instead it was the overly dull, mind numbing and long winded discussion regarding funding, research, more babble on about blood diseases and analyses. Most of which completely went over Geoffrey’s head. He spent the vast majority of the meeting lying at Jonathan’s feet beside his chair while the ekon idly stroked his head and shoulders as he spoke passionately on the subject. Occasionally Swansea would get too boisterous or step far too close for Geoffrey’s comfort and draw a loud and very menacing growl with a flash of teeth from him which quickly put the nervous doctor in his place and forced him to cease his ridiculous pacing.


	5. Chapter 5

Jonathan made a huge mistake. A very dreadful miscalculation on his part that he was immensely regretful of now. Sadly, he was suffering the very real and horrific consequences. Jonathan raced around his office in a frantic effort to remedy the very real problem that permeated the space and was creating an indescribable fog that thwarted even his keen ekon senses. It was very hard not to gag as he threw open the door to his balcony and gulped in the fresh night air, expelling the vile stench from his nostrils. He turned to scowl at the source of his terrible misfortune which was currently stretched across his bed with his belly up, blissfully ignorant of the torment he was putting the doctor through.

Jonathan sighed heavily and shook his head as Arthur kicked the blanket off of his belly to expose it to the cool night air. He was growing more mobile as the days passed, becoming more energetic and independent along the way. A very pleasant detail that soothed his anxiety about Arthur's progress. It had been nearly a week since he found him in that back alley, bleeding out on the cobblestones in a heap of trash. Jonathan was relieved to see him come back to life, no longer the frightened and untrusting dog he was. Now he was completely and totally comfortable to lollygag all over Jonathan’s bed, steal his pillows even while they attempted to sleep through the day and even swiped the leash from his hand during a walk along the Thames. Arthur decided to play keep away until Jonathan slipped and nearly fell into the river below. He had enough bearing to shadow jump to a parked boat on the opposite side of the canal to avoid the unsavory disaster.

Arthur stared back at him with a smug expression of triumph and started to casually trot back up the steps towards the hospital. It was only a few jumps before he caught up and scooped the troublesome pup up into his arms like the mischief maker he was and carried him back to his office.

Jonathan added _dietary restrictions_ to the list of things he had to do involving Arthur. If the good doctor was going to survive this, he would need to find a better alternative diet for his pup, either that or Jonathan would need to procure a set of gas masks from the war. He’s certain if they could survive German gas they would work with Arthur’s ferocious flatulence.

The agenda for the day involved meeting with someone who came to the Pembroke Hospital looking for Arthur. Well, more specifically for Dr. Reid in order to speak about Arthur. Nurse Finch kindly requested that they come back in the evening when Jonathan was in his office doing his rounds. He checked his watch and sighed, still trying to air the room out as he spoke up.

“The man coming tonight may be your missing owner, Arthur.” Jonathan glanced towards the bed when he heard the derisive snort from the hound as he rolled over and sat up to stare at him with what could only be a look of confusion. “Isn’t that exciting, boy? You can finally go home.” The enthusiasm was strained in the doctor’s voice. He was beginning to grow fond of the pup. He gave Jonathan a new sense of purpose. He brought a burst of life into this dull and dead existence he was stuck entertaining. He put a smile on the doctor’s face every evening he woke up and was the warm familiar weight that stretched across his lap or laid against his chest as he started to fall asleep, his hands wound up in his fur as he stroked his head and shoulders.

It would be rather lonely without him lounging around the office and getting into mischief. Jonathan knew it wouldn’t last. It was inevitable, but the ache didn’t hurt any less. He busied himself around his office, organizing papers and reading back over his most recent project notes. His back remained turned towards Arthur when the knock came on the door.

“Dr. Reid.” Nurse Finch called through the door. “Someone is here to see you.”

“Come in.” Jonathan called over his shoulder and sighed. He straightened up and turned to greet his guest as Nurse Finch opened the door to permit them entry. Arthur remained lying on the bed, his ears perked with interest and eyes fixed on the gentleman. He was well dressed in a dark grey suit. A large overweight man that almost reminded Jonathan of Mr. Calhoun Russell. His hair was more dirty brown than the black of Mr. Russell, his cheeks a rosy pink as he breathed more heavily, presumably from the trek up the steps. Jonathan couldn’t exactly imagine this man tended to such a boisterous and energetic dog like Arthur, but maybe he had children to keep the pup occupied. He appeared to be similar in age to Jonathan, maybe a couple years his senior but that was about it. He was far shorter, stockier in his build, forcing Jonathan to tilt his head and gaze down at the man as he greeted him. 

Jonathan's smile was forced. "Good evening sir. I'm Dr. Jonathan Reid."

"Good evening." The man's gaze slid towards Arthur's presence on the bed, a broad smile spread across his face. He stroked the end of his curled mustache as he purred. "I see you have found my dog, sir."

Jonathan observed the man with a close eye, tearing it away to address Arthur with an apologetic look in his eyes. "It would seem I have. He was injured in Whitechapel when I found him."

"Whitechapel?" The man blurted then turned to sneer. "It's a wonder some unsavory types didn't whisk him away. A handsome dog he is."

"Does he have a name sir?" Jonathan inquired.

The man gave him a peculiar look as if he'd asked something absolutely preposterous. Jonathan raised a brow expecting an answer of some kind. "Of course he does." The man snapped and turned towards Arthur with a nervous expression. "Come here boy. Let's go home."

Arthur growled at the man as he attempted to draw him near. The gentleman looked at odds with the behavior, startled by the aggression in his eyes. "Bad dog. How dare you growl at me? I am your owner!"

At that, Arthur lunged towards him with lips drawn back into a vicious and wicked warning. He bounded off the bed with a deafening bark which caused the gentleman to jump and stumble back, landing on his rear end to the floor. Arthur's hackles rose along his back making him look far larger and more intimidating than Jonathan had ever seen before. The man held his hands up in self-defense and screamed in terror. "HE'S GOING TO KILL ME!"

Arthur stood at Jonathan's feet, having not advanced beyond the doctor's reach. He hunkered his shoulders and lowered his head, his ears drawn and muscles coiled, ready to strike at the first sign of trouble. There was no playfulness in his expression and Jonathan was startled by the whole scene when a thought struck him like a train. 

"He's not really your dog." Jonathan stated coldly.

"He is!" The man barked back. Arthur barked louder, silencing his protests. The man flinched and whimpered where he struggled to get to his feet.

"You're lying." It was Jonathan's turn to snarl in disgust. Keen ears could ear the thundering of a frightened heart beat. He could _smell_ the fear that quivered throughout the stranger. Arthur stayed by Jonathan's side, just beneath the touch of his fingers where they could brush over the dog's shoulders in praise. "Leave my office now."

"But-" The man tried to protest as Arthur took a step forward with his own dark promise should he refuse to comply. The man scrambled to his feet and nearly headbutted the door frame in his frantic attempt to leave. It was probably the fastest he's run in his life, Jonathan estimated. He glanced at his side when he felt the familiar weight of a fuzzy body leaning against his leg. Arthur was sitting comfortably by Jonathan's side, tail thumping away against the floor as he tilted his head up to gaze at the doctor with this uniquely satisfied look in his eyes.

"Good boy." Jonathan praised, stroking his hand over the dog's face and ears, scuffing behind them in that special spot that earned a very pleased groan from the dog and a bob of his hind paw against the floor. Jonathan crouched down to eye level and was met with a very wet tongue to the face in what he could only assume was appreciation. "You're such a smart boy. Such a good boy. That mean old man tried to lie and take you."

"Is everything alright Dr. Reid?" Nurse Finch's voice rose in the doorway where she stood with a concerned frown. "We could hear yelling all the way downstairs and then that man-"

"That man was a charlatan that tried to deceive me to take Arthur." Jonathan politely informed, his head turned over his shoulder as he hummed. "But Arthur is a brilliant boy who chased him off. Right boy?"

The dog let out a dignified whuff and bared his teeth in an open mouthed smile, groaning as Jonathan found a nice spot below his chin that made him flop completely over and land hard against the doctor's chest. 

"Oh my, that sounds terrible. It's a good thing he didn't succeed." Nurse Finch approached with a small amused smile on her lips. "It would be a shame if he left." She murmured, reaching out as she stooped beside the hound and massaged his belly. Between the doctor and the nurse, the hound appeared to be in heaven with all the attention he was getting.

"I feel the same, Nurse. I worry that his owner may no longer be alive but I could only hope. And yet, it saddens me to think of the day he will part from me." He sighed, gazing down at the hound as it huffed and stared up at the doctor with a puzzled expression. The touching moment lasted all of thirty seconds when a very noisy rumbling sound made itself known. Both Nurse Finch and Jonathan jolted away with grimaces, taking a precautionary step back from the hound who rolled over and sneezed on the floor before shaking his muzzle and splattering snot around. 

"Disgusting." Jonathan lamented. "I need to find a diet that lessens _that_ particular problem."

"I wish you luck, Dr. Reid." Nurse Finch chimed, covering her nose with her sleeve and trying to breath through the material. Her eyes appeared to be watering which Jonathan didn't blame her given she was closer to the danger zone when it happened.

“Nurse Finch, would you mind checking on him later this evening?” Jonathan prompted after a moment once they had regained their composure. “I need to go about my rounds.”

“Certainly Dr. Reid. He’ll be fine on his own for a little bit.”

Jonathan nodded. “He already did his business and ate his meal. I expect he’ll just sleep it off, right boy?” The dog huffed as if in answer before moseying over to the bed to climb back up into his designated spot. He tucked the pillow beneath his head and pulled the blankets over himself in a casual and carefree motion. Both Nurse Finch and Jonathan stared after him. “He is very peculiar.” The doctor stated flatly.

“I see.” Nurse Finch giggled.


	6. Fanart by Tyrantwache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wonderful art of McPupper (Irish Werewolfhound Geoffrey) and Bat Reid in a fun and amazing crossover!
> 
> Thank you so much! It's so cute!!
> 
> Go check them out! Their Warhammer 40k/Vampyr crossover comic is definitely worth a read as well!!
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/tyrantwache/art/Beast-Wars-844267878


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all the people who left me so many lovely comments! I really appreciate it! 
> 
> The updates for McPupper may slow as I rotate back to working on TPC and Captiv(ation) as well as the Monster AU and Bat Reid. So please be patient with me! I am cranking out updates as quickly as I possibly can! It may slow since I'm going to have an abundance of family visiting for the next week and it's very hard to write with screaming toddlers racing around getting into everything. (My 30 year old brother included. He is a man child.)
> 
> So with that being said, Enjoy!

Geoffrey was having an absolutely lovely time. Between nearly getting to maul some lying toff and then being fed meat pies from Nurse Finch’s basket of goodies she brought just for him, he was pretty cozy. His mobility was getting better and he could actually move around more without help or stumbling. He did feel as if he pulled something when he lunged at the bastard but it was well worth it when Miss Finch rubbed his belly and praised him. The initial embarrassment had faded in the last few days. It was strange how quickly and easily he grew used to Jonathan’s ever constant presence that doted on him every second of their waking hours.

He supposed it was to be expected but the break was a pleasant reprieve. To which he spent most of it sleeping, as predicted. Geoffrey had to admit though, the leech was right about that diet problem. It was an unavoidable consequence of being a canine, he feared. One would think werewolves wouldn’t be prone to bellyaches, bloating and gas, but here he was. They were no different than any other big dog that ate primarily meat as a source of sustenance. That was also a reason why he limited how often and for how long he would transform into his other half.

O’Connor wasn’t very happy the first time he encountered Geoffrey’s werewolf form and it gassed them both out of the car they were driving to Scotland for official leech hunting business. They were forced to pull over and air out the car. Geoffrey couldn’t shift back considering he was nursing an injury after being thrown into a wall. The damn bloody leech got the drop on him when he was trying to track the missing victim. There was a risk that transforming with broken bones could worsen the injury or turn a mildly inconvenient break into a fatal wound. That fact didn’t stop O’Connor from glaring at him with the fire of a thousand angry lives packed into one look as he leaned against the hood of the car and waited for the sun to rise. Geoffrey made himself comfortable in the backseat with his own nose shoved beneath his paws. He will admit, it was _really_ bad.

He spent most of the evening and late into the night just lightly dozing. He would stir awake when Nurse Finch opened the door and peeked into the room to check on him. Geoffrey would open his eyes and lift his head to look in her direction from where he was covered by blankets and tucked against the pillow. She wouldn't linger long and Geoffrey would go back to sleep and the light dreams that graced his thoughts. His dreams often involved Priwen, past memories or antics that the group was often involved in. Some involved his fears and concerns, and others were just too weird to figure out and often quickly forgot immediately upon waking with only a faint impression of what may have transpired.

When the door opened again, it was accompanied by a familiar set of footsteps that Geoffrey quickly honed in on. He greeted them by burying his face into the pillow and groaning. Jonathan entered quietly and shut the door behind himself. Every step was slow and measured as he made his way to his desk and sat down on the chair with a lost look on his face. Geoffrey could smell the faint traces of blood on the air accompanied by the sickening odor that clung to the doctor's coat, that unmistakable scent of Skals.

Part of Geoffrey was concerned that the doctor had done something horrible, the sneaking suspicion and paranoia still creeping up on his thoughts. Geoffrey lifted his head to closely inspect the leech when he noticed the uneasy set of his jaw and that fretful expression he's seen one too many times. He snorted in dismissal, shaking his own concern away when Jonathan noticed the eyes that watched him from the bed. He slipped off of his chair and shucked his jacket off, letting it fall haphazardly over the arm. He quietly approached the bed where he dropped down to sit on the edge. Geoffrey begrudgingly adjusted to make space and scowled at him.

"My apologies." Jonathan started. "I'm just- I received a bit of bad news I suppose. If I'm not exactly cordial, I hope you can forgive me." His words were stilted and heavy. "A man I know, well he's less of a friend but something similar to a budding rival of sorts?"

He shook his head as he clapped a hand over Geoffrey's neck and stroked down along his shoulders in absent motions. His fingers curled to comb through the hunter's fur in easy lines. "I found I may care for him a bit. He's bullheaded and so terribly stubborn but he's grown on me over time. I've come to trust that he is a reliable acquaintance to ensure I don't stray." Jonathan sighed heavily, a sound that punched the air from his lungs with the sheer weight it contained. "I found out that McCullum is currently missing. Possibly even dead. I refuse to believe he would be taken so easily by someone and he is not a man that would abandon his men like this."

"Something horrible has happened and I feel as if I may have let him down in some small way. As if I could do something that could have prevented this." He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "It's a foolish thought I know, Arthur but it's hard to sit idle when I know he could be out there in need of help. I know he wouldn't accept it either way but I'd at least be there to offer it nonetheless. He is so foolishly stubborn."

It was strange hearing Reid talk about him like this. It was oddly intimate and more than a tiny bit jarring. He wondered if the leech overheard Priwen in their panic to try and hunt him down and find his whereabouts. It wouldn't surprise him with Reid's knack for gossip and eavesdropping in places he really shouldn't. It wouldn't have taken long for O'Connor to notice something was wrong and start sending the men out in calculated sweeps. He had a curious thought on if they found his belongings yet where he had hidden them. Would they know to look for the dog and not the man?

The thought was brushed aside as Reid continued to sulk as if he'd lost a loved one. It wasn't often that Geoffrey pondered if leeches ever felt real and true grief. Did they understand that very mortal sense of pain with loss? Did they feel remorse? Guilt? Shame? Were their emotions truly honest or was it all some cleverly concealed mask that they adorned themselves with to lure unsuspecting prey to lower their guard? Like all monsters did, they were not to be trusted. 

And yet, Geoffrey realized Reid had no reason to wear that mask here. As far as the Ekon was concerned, he was talking to a dog and that was it. So why the sudden torrent of emotions? Geoffrey meant his past declarations. He would inevitably kill the leech doctor for his sins and his corruptions. And yet, Jonathan appeared to be mourning him. It was a very confusing ordeal that the hunter didn't have the spare emotional capacity to handle at the moment. So he opted for the next best thing. He stood up and put his paws on Reid's chest, forcing the doctor to twist more towards him so Geoffrey could lean his weight against his chest. Jonathan was perplexed but obliged the dog's attempts, falling back against the cot as Geoffrey lowered himself to get comfortable. His full body weight pressed over Jonathan like a living security blanket. Geoffrey settled his head over Jonathan's breast and grunted at him with paws tucked under his jaw. Jonathan got the message it seemed as the massive canine attempted to smother him into submission. His fingers wove into Geoffrey's fur as Jonathan pulled him into a firm hug, burying his face into the fur of the hunter's shoulder.

"Thank you so much Arthur. You're such a good boy." They laid there like that for an hour before Jonathan finally extricated himself to change into more comfortable clothes to sleep in. He hung his coat up properly and shuffled towards the cot where he crawled back into the bed and adjusted the blankets around them both. Jonathan had to swipe his spare pillow from where Geoffrey had stolen it to lounge against while the doctor cleaned up. Geoffrey gave a smug look with a pleased huff and flopped back on top of Jonathan to get comfortable. There was still an hour before sunrise but both man and werewolf had the silent agreement to be content and stay right there.

  
  


The next evening was less exciting as far as Geoffrey was concerned but still interesting nonetheless. Jonathan decided on a very long walk for the night, taking a shortcut through the Docks as Geoffrey trotted by his side. It was nice to stretch his legs and see somewhere different for a change. The smell of the pier wrinkled his nose as the stench washed with the waves against the shoreline. He spotted Digby and Edwina roaming their usual spot around the corner from the Turtle. They perused the area as Jonathan checked in on a few of his regulars. One such patient was a young orphan boy that Geoffrey had spotted a few times. Rufus was his name and he looked very sickly as he wandered the streets like a phantom. Geoffrey tilted his head and sat at the doctor's heel and listened in as Rufus gleefully reciprocated the doctor's greetings. His sullen expression brightened quickly with Jonathan's presence, something of which Geoffrey hadn't expected at all.

He supposed it could be a leechy trick or the young man was simply gullible and wasn't aware of the dangers the leech posed to him. Maybe Geoffrey could thwart further dangers by intervening in whatever Jonathan was preparing to do to the youth. His pallor was unusual for a young man his age, a sickly sheen of sweat dampened his forehead and made the pale blond locks plaster to his skin where it curled haphazardly out from beneath the cap.

"Here you are. This should make you feel better." Jonathan assured as he passed a small capsule of medicine to the young man. "Take this once in the morning and at night. There should be enough for a week. I'll come back to check on you in a couple days and see how you're faring."

"Thank you so much Dr. Reid." Rufus chimed tiredly as he accepted the medication, pausing to take the prescribed dose at the moment. Jonathan smiled warmly towards him.

"Have you been eating well, Rufus?"

"Mrs. Fishburn made me supper earlier so I'm alright." He assured with a positivity that was rare in these parts. "She looks out for me with what little she can offer. Makes sure me and Jack don't go hungry."

"I understand." Jonathan nodded. "If you need anything else, feel free to let me know."

"Thank you, sir. You're too kind."

Jonathan smiled again with a quiet tilt of his head and a gentle pull on the leash as his direction for them to move on. Geoffrey watched in mixed confusion and shock at how gentle the doctor was. He didn't sense any leechy tricks, no underhanded motives or malice from the doctor. It was as if his words and actions were genuine in their harmlessness. Geoffrey refused to believe such a farce. Maybe Reid was just trying to groom the boy to be a healthier snack. What's the point in eating a sickly thin rabbit when he could have a plump healthy one?

Geoffrey was certain that must be it. He was onto the sneaky leech and his clever ways. Disguising his activities as genuine and pure hearted. No monster lived so innocently. There was always some hidden agenda and Geoffrey was determined to utilize his prime position at the moment as the opportunity to suss out Reid's evil ways and expose him for the beast he truly was. It was only a matter of time before he exposes himself and when that happens, Geoffrey will be ready.

  
  


Or so he thought. Their impromptu walk around the neighborhood led them to the posh West End and it's far cleaner streets. Geoffrey grimaced as Jonathan paraded him down the sidewalk towards a special shop that at first glance resembled a tailor. On the inside it still shared that appearance with only the short bald elderly man behind the counter to greet them. He had a wrinkled face and small spectacles that made him bug eyed behind the lenses. He had an expensive suit on in an olive green shade and a navy blue handkerchief in the front breast pocket. A length of measuring tape hung over his shoulders casually as Jonathan adjusted the leash in hand and tightened his grasp on the leather.

"What can I do for you sir?" The man's voice was brittle with age but still cheery. Geoffrey supposed work might not have been so busy with the pandemic about.

"I heard you do _special_ orders for outfits?" Jonathan inquired. "I was wondering if you could do something for my friend here. Something tasteful but still practical for the colder weather we'll be having."

The man adjusted his spectacles as he inspected Geoffrey with a curious gaze. "I haven't done something for a dog this big before but I believe I can make something suitable for him. Any colors you have in mind?"

Jonathan glanced down at Geoffrey with a scrutinizing look. "Maybe a dark green or a red? Or even a blue would look handsome with his coat. What do you think, Arthur? Blue or red?"

Geoffrey didn't engage that with an answer. He was more concerned about the man with the measuring tape that proceeded to measure his hips, chest, neck, back, shoulders and legs. He gave him a low warning growl when he neared the tender spots that were covered by thick bandages. The man was cautious and courteous. Jonathan stroked his head in a reassuring motion throughout the visit. When the tailor finished, both Jonathan and the man convened over by the front desk and talked about styles, colors, and prices. The man worked to sketch out a rough pattern onto paper with Geoffrey's measurements and both men eyed him in the corner of their gazes as they spoke. It was very unnerving to him though he had no other choice but to sit and wait.

Even though waiting was terribly boring. 

The shop was tiny, a little hole in the wall that was easily missed compared to the others. It had many lush and expensive fabrics, various patterns and styles of outerwear that could sate any man's ego. Geoffrey found no interest in any of the merchandise until his eyes landed on a red and black checkered scarf that was neatly folded on a counter beside several others. Glancing over his shoulder for the coast to be clear, he crept over towards the table with what little slack remained in the leash. Jonathan still had a firm hold and Geoffrey had to really calculate his approach before he lunged forward and took the scarf in his teeth, effectively jerking the doctor's arm in the process. 

Jonathan made a startled noise and turned to find Geoffrey flinging the scarf around to unfold it and try to toss it over his shoulder. It didn't work as well as he planned. He stopped when Jonathan approached in quick stride and inspected the hunter closely. Geoffrey sat back on his haunches and held the scarf stubbornly in his jaws.

"Is this what you want, Arthur?" He asked with genuine amusement in his voice. He held his hand out quietly demanding the scarf from him. Geoffrey expected anger or distress at the beastly behavior but Jonathan was calm and thoughtful. He gently released the scarf into the doctor's hand who smiled before kneeling in front of Geoffrey to properly wrap and tie the item loosely around his neck. It was tucked through the collar to keep from slipping off over his head.

"Very handsome indeed. You have a wonderful eye." Jonathan praised. "We'll take this as well sir." The doctor spoke up louder for the tailor who smiled appreciatively. Geoffrey assumed the man was just glad he didn't turn his merchandise into a chew toy. All jokes aside, he really did have a fondness for the scarf and it was probably the most expensive and fancy article of clothing he's ever worn. It felt good in all honesty. Geoffrey refused to acknowledge that he may have cracked a smile which jolted through Jonathan like an electric shock springing life through him. He met the gesture with a few well placed scratches before he rose back to his full height and returned his attention to the man behind the desk and paid for the order.


	8. Chapter 8

"Very handsome." Jonathan cheered and cooed at Arthur as he fitted the brand new sweater on the pup. It was a deep royal blue with red trimming, a similar red that matched the checkered scarf his pup had picked out and now proudly wore around the office and out on walks. The sweater was a perfect fit, clapped around the front of his chest and covering his belly, back and sides without restricting his front or hind legs and their motion.

Jonathan took a step back and let Arthur make a few practice paces around the office to ensure it fit just right. The doctor really couldn't be any more pleased about it and his pup appeared to be enjoying himself as well. "Do you like your new outfit, Arthur? Hm? You look very charming. A true gentleman."

Arthur huffed and barked in what Jonathan assumed was agreement and smiled. He stroked a hand over the hound's head and face as he smoothed over his fur and scratched behind his ear in praise. "Good boy."

Jonathan drew away to return his attention towards his desk work and started to focus once more on his evening tasks. He had a few different blood samples he had yet to analyze. Tending to the task was a priority before the samples turned foul and started to decay. This left Arthur to his own devices in the meantime. Jonathan was only mildly aware of the pup as he trotted around the room and sniffed about with renewed curiosity now that he had far more freedom to roam.

Jonathan hummed softly to himself as he prepped a few samples and slid the screens beneath his microscope, taking detailed notes of each one and marking them down in his journals for future reference. He was halfway through the last screen when an odd scraping noise caught his attention. At first it was just a mild sound before it began to wear on his nerves. He mistook it as coming from Ackroyd and Strickland's shared office when the noise grew closer and was accompanied by a coughing sound that could only be from one source.

Jonathan twisted in his seat to find that somehow Arthur had gotten ahold of some item and had it wedged in between his jaws. The scraping was his teeth on whatever the surface the item had.

"Arthur, what do you have in your mouth?" Jonathan called as he stood up from his seat and approached the canine. The dog dipped his head and swiveled away from the doctor as he darted the opposite direction to keep his prize away from the ekon. "Arthur drop it!" Jonathan demanded.

The pup did not drop the item. In fact, he tipped his head up to further lodge it between his jaws and grinned smugly around what became apparent was Swansea's skull. One of which the Administrator had been toying with when he stopped by earlier in the evening to speak to Jonathan urgently about a matter. He must have left it behind on accident and Arthur targeted the only available bone not attached to a full skeleton that he could get his teeth on. The pup was brilliant in his game of keepaway as he used the shelves and furniture to put distance between him and the doctor. He even shuffled underneath the bed on his belly and tucked his whole body (tail included) beneath the furniture to stay out of reach as he further demolished the bone.

Jonathan hooked his hands around Arthur's hips and dragged him back out from under the bed. His success was short lived when a rush of putrid air hit his nostrils and gagged him. Jonathan released the hound in alarm, shocked by the underhanded attack as he waved his hand to dismiss the pungent cloud. "That was a dirty trick."

The dog huffed at him and snorted. Jonathan was not one to accept defeat so quickly as he tried a second time before Arthur could reload for a second wind. He dragged him out from his hiding spot and rolled him over onto his back. Arthur kicked a front paw out to strike against the side of his face and attempted to roll back over but Jonathan was quick to reach for the skull in his mouth. 

"Come on. Give it." He coaxed. "Give it up, Arthur. That's not yours."

It took several minutes of wrestling and a paw pressed firmly against Jonathan's face in refusal before he managed to get the item free of the hound's jaws. There were deep gouges from its incisors driven into the bone but that couldn't really be helped given the situation. He gave a triumphant sound as he stood up and held the item out of the pup's reach. Carefully examining it, he noticed one of the teeth had been knocked loose and an eye socket had cracked. Edgar wouldn't be happy about that but then again, he probably should keep a better eye on his belongings around a canine.

He set the skull on a higher bookshelf where Arthur wouldn't reach and returned to his desk with a heavy sigh. His gaze dropped to his journal as he inspected it thoughtfully, stealing glimpses towards the bed where Arthur rummaged around beneath and used the frame to scratch his back against, causing the entire piece to rattle and shake against the floor.

"I don't know what to do with you." Jonathan sighed and shook his head teasingly. He plopped back down into his seat and resumed his earlier work. Arthur had fallen suspiciously quiet for far too long by the time Jonathan finished his task and looked around. He found the hound had snuck towards the door and shoved his head into the partially open bag of treats Nurse Finch had left for him earlier in the evening. Jonathan had paid her for her assistance and her kindness, giving her more than double the price of the food goods as a thank you for her invaluable help and patience.

Arthur had secured his teeth around a jar of peanut butter. One of which he was determined to pry the lid open as he tried to twist it off with his back teeth. They scraped and ripped against the sides of the container but to no avail. Jonathan watched in amusement, almost pitying the poor pup and his fruitless desperate attempts. He didn't expect Arthur to meet his gaze over the jar and stand with it held firmly between his teeth as he carried to the doctor. A pointed look in his eyes and a tired grunt, he deposited the container almost expectantly in Jonathan's open awaiting palm. He easily popped the lid off and handed the jar back towards Arthur as the dog gently took it in his mouth and sat down by his food dishes where he proceeded to have himself a tasty snack.

The sound of a wet tongue smacking around to get the sticky peanut butter off the roof of his mouth was an amusing addition to the backdrop of Jonathan's work. He chuckled to himself and continued until the evening turned to early morning and Arthur had retired from his jar when he couldn't stick his tongue or his muzzle far enough in for tasty morsels.

Jonathan scooped it back up from where the pup had rolled over with a satisfied groan and dozed off, belly up and paws in the air while he slept. The doctor took the opportunity to tidy up his office a bit, put the jar away and slip out the door to sneak the damaged skull back into Edgar's office before he noticed its absence.

The ekon reorganized his shelves and familiarized himself with a few new books he added to his collection. Jonathan ended the night by rousing the hound from his nap, removing the scarf and sweater from his body as Arthur lazily shuffled from paw to paw and headbutted him in the shoulder in a pitiful attempt at protesting. "Oh, I know. You're so tired huh? I'm so sorry for waking you but I need to change your bandages before we go to bed."

Arthur grunted and sniffed derisively towards the doctor before submitting himself to the cautious manhandling that followed. He stumbled and tilted before flopping down altogether in stubborn refusal to cooperate. Jonathan laughed softly and scooped the canine up into his arms and dumped him easily across the bed where he lightly bounced. Arthur wiggled, the garments were gone with only his collar remaining but Jonathan had yet to get at the bandages for a final peek.

"Hold still you rascal." He chastised but his words were full of mirth. His hands strayed from their task to instead indulge in the playfulness of his companion and buried his fingers into the soft fur as he scratched and rubbed his belly. Arthur stretched out, paw pushed to their limits as he exposed his whole belly with a wagging tail beating the bedding mercilessly.

"Who's a good boy? Is it you? Yes! Yes that's you. Arthur is such a good boy. Yes you are." Jonathan cooed and leaned down to press a kiss to his muzzle which coincidentally smelled faintly like peanut butter. He captured the pup's feisty paws and rolled him back over as he claimed triumph. Arthur grunted in defeat and allowed the doctor to check his bandages. All the while, his tail continued its delighted wag.

"Your injuries have healed up splendidly." Jonathan cheered. "I believe a few more days and I can remove the stitches." He quickly went about removing the old bandages and replacing them with the new. He supposed when the time comes and he does take the stitches out, he should do something special for his pup. A get well present perhaps? He certainly deserved all the praise and presents in the world. He recovered magnificently from a horrendous attack and he didn't just mean in a physical capacity. Arthur had gone from a frightened aggressive mess to such a carefree and happy hound in a very short amount of time. That alone was astonishing given the trauma he had to have encountered. He truly was a very brave and resilient boy. 

When he finished, he cleaned up the supplies and changed into something comfortable. Arthur had already prepared himself for their morning routine with his favorite pillow tucked under him and ready to go. Jonathan slid into bed beside the hound and settled into a comfortable spot. Arthur assumed his usual position stretched across his lap and chest with the hound's head rested against his collarbone and shoulder. What once had been a crushing weight had quickly become a comforting one that the ekon found relief in. He couldn't imagine how he would fare were Arthur to leave his side. How quickly he had grown attached to the dog was startling now that he examined it more closely. Perhaps that was a sign of his previous loneliness peeking through.

  
  
  
  


Edgar was in his office as the sun crested over the horizon. Jonathan was drawn from his deep death like sleep by the beastly growl that reverberated through the room and rang in his ears. Arthur was staring the Administrator down from his perch still atop the ekon. Edgar was at odds with the situation, too afraid to leave the doorway lest Arthur bound after him like an attack fiend.

"It's alright boy." Jonathan assured. "I'm awake." He rubbed at his eyes and slowly sat up. Arthur shifted from his chest to putting his entire weight on Jonathan's legs keeping him pinned to the cot. "He's a friend." Jonathan added as he reached to scratch behind his ears. Arthur whuffed in protest and narrowed his eyes at the offending doctor.

"What are you doing, Edgar?"

"That _beast_ has sunk its teeth into one of my skulls, Jonathan." Edgar blurted, holding the aforementioned damaged skull in his hand like some form of damning evidence in a court case. "It's as if it threatens my very life."

"Don't be so dramatic, Edgar. You left it in my office the other day and Arthur found it and wanted to play." Jonathan explained. "From what I've heard, dogs have a fondness for bones. He probably thought it was for him."

Edgar didn't look so easily convinced by the subject and sniffed. "I'm afraid a collectible won't be the only thing it intends to bite down on."

"Edgar, are you insinuating that Arthur is a menace?"

"Maybe I am. Yes, Jonathan." Edgar blanched. "Just look at him." He gestured towards the cot.

Jonathan dropped his gaze and found the hound curled around his waist with a protective gleam in his eye. "Maybe he thinks you're a threat to me." It was just an idle thought but it made sense to a point. Arthur was very territorial when Swansea was near. Oftentimes tucked close to Jonathan's side when a perceived threat was imminent. It gave him a giddy excited feeling at the thought. Maybe Arthur saw him as someone special, worthy of protecting. Or maybe he was repaying a debt. A life for a life. He doubted dogs would see the world in such a way but it was certainly an intriguing thought to ponder.

"Is that all you're here for Edgar?" Jonathan sighed, ignoring the look of hurt across his colleague's expression. He was too tired to deal with this today and Edgar had woken him up almost two hours too early.

"No." The Administrator squirmed by the doorway when Arthur adjusted to get down from the bed and stretch his legs. Always keeping Edgar in line of sight. "Lady Ashbury has requested a meeting with you this evening. She wanted me to relay it so you wouldn't be late."

Jonathan glanced up with a peculiar look on his face before shaking his head. He supposed that meant he was to meet her at her home. He had only been there once before and that was shortly before finding Arthur in that filthy alley. He couldn't fathom what she wanted from him exactly but if she was making a request and using Edgar as a messenger it must be important.

"I see. Thank you Edgar." He waited until the Administrator had left the room before he turned his attention towards his pup. "I suppose you wouldn't mind a particularly long walk this evening while I go see a friend?"

Arthur perked his head up and met Jonathan's gaze with what he could only assume were hopeful eyes. The wagging tail added another blend of happiness to the expression. "I didn't think so. Come on then. I'll feed you breakfast and we'll get dressed to go."


	9. Chapter 9

Geoffrey supposed he should have been suspicious when Jonathan mentioned seeing a friend. As far as he was concerned, the leech didn't have normal _'friends'_ or even people in general. Anyone of interest usually meant trouble as far as Geoffrey was concerned. He supposed he should have expected as much when they approached the West End towards a big fancy manor house. He smelled it before he saw this mysterious Lady Ashbury. It wasn't a specific scent that gave it away but the lack of _unique_ scent that living humans always have.

Not a single wisp of it lingered at all in the home. It was as if it were absent of life itself. That was not in fact the case, he found out when Jonathan tightened his grip on the leash to keep him close by his side just as a female figure stepped into the entryway to greet them. She was a leech and not one that Geoffrey recognized either which in and of itself, was unsettling. He had a good eye and nose for each leech in the city. Most of which were in alliance with Ascalon and their little faux Gentleman's Club.

"Oh, this must be that new acquisition Dr. Swansea mentioned. He is very charming, Jonathan." She spoke softly with all the air of a woman accustomed to high society status for centuries. She held herself in much the same way. "That outfit you picked for him is very dashing."

"I cannot take all the credit, Milady. Arthur picked the scarf for himself. He has a very good eye." Jonathan preened as if he were a parent for a brilliant and clever child. His words full of pride as he reached down to stroke Geoffrey's head in small measured motions. Geoffrey didn't miss the way his fingers dipped to catch that spot behind his ear and he cursed himself for leaning into it automatically. The satisfied groan that filtered from his chest drew a smile to the Lady Leech's face. 

"Well, as long as he minds his manners, he's more than welcome to join us for tea." 

_What kind of tea do they drink?_ Geoffrey couldn't help but wonder. The last he knew, leeches couldn't eat human food or drink their drinks. He's even overheard Reid mumbling about it while jotting down his own notes on the ekon condition. It was the reason he kept so many vials of rat blood on hand for when he gets peckish and needs a pick me up while he's working but doesn't want to go out and scrounge for a warm meal from a small furry body.

What Geoffrey expected to find was nowhere near the reality when all three of them settled down in the parlor. Reid and Lady Leech were perched politely in the plush rich red velvet armchairs while they _sniffed_ tea in companionable silence. Geoffrey had been given a bowl out of the pair's shared amusement and poured some in to cool. The hunter was at least appreciative that he wasn't expected to sit and watch. He wasn't one to beg but he did miss the human luxuries from time to time. Both leeches were bewildered when he lowered himself to lie beside the bowl and quietly lapped up a few mouthfuls. 

Geoffrey ignored their stares and enjoyed his damn tea. It was surprisingly good considering a leech made it but he reserved the opinion that O'Connor makes it better. He was afraid that statement followed everything else on top of it which led to the audible growl in his stomach at the thought of how many home cooked meals he had missed. He did take his second's cooking for granted, he will admit that now when all he had to look forward to was whatever raw scraps the doctor procured and tossed into a bowl for him. It didn't compare to a hearty warm meal surrounded by his men as they prepared to go out for yet another evening patrol or set off to the Turquoise Turtle for a short break and a bit of celebration.

Their conversations were long, drawn out and incredibly boring. Geoffrey had hoped for something substantial to work with but his attempted spying only led to the topic of recent recommended authors, friendly pleasantries, discussions of family (to which Geoffrey was surprised to know Reid's mother was still alive and that he killed his own sister, not once but twice) and some inquiries involving the state of Jonathan's current investigation.

Geoffrey had emptied his bowl and was beginning to doze off when the topic changed suddenly to something of interest. He shook away the tendrils of drowsiness when Jonathan spoke.

"I believe I may have found a lead involving my maker." That sounded promising. Certainly a vampire of Reid's caliber would have a very powerful and reknown maker. Now, which one of the bastards on Carl's old list was it?

"Really? That's good news Jonathan. May I inquire as to what you have discovered?" The Lady Leech straightened up eagerly listening to her companion.

"Well, I'm not entirely certain yet but I believe he may be very old. He appeared to me, in the form of a strange man made entirely of blood." Geoffrey's head snapped up and his eyes widened, sharing a similarly shocked expression to the one that appeared on the Lady Leech's face. Unlike his, hers was brief and fleeting.

"It would seem your lineage is an ancient one." The woman stated tersely. Geoffrey nearly snorted. That was an understatement. Many of the old vampires of London barely even scraped the bottom of the barrel in their bloodlines. Most of which were hunted down during the first Great Hunt. Geoffrey had partaken in it towards the end when Carl deemed him ready. The Hunter had spent much of his time tracking down ekons and their Vulkod servants through the backcountry and even into Scotland and Ireland where they retreated from the city.

Compared to what Jonathan's maker seemed to be, these leeches they hunted were nothing more than babies. Just a drop in an ocean of endless time. Given that bit of information, it made sense as to why such a new blood was so powerful so quickly. Especially one that subsisted entirely on rat blood to boot. The doctor was a one of a kind encounter. It really put a lot of what has transpired so far into a startling perspective that only served to make Geoffrey even more uneasy.

Jonathan and the Lady Leech continued their conversation, veering away from the sensitive topic that had put a similar uneasiness in the woman. She fidgeted in her seat, searching for a change in topic when she decided to address Geoffrey's presence as if just noticing him for the first time all evening since they sat down.

"You've grown attached?" She asked as if the expensive outfits and the fact Reid rarely stopped petting or touching his head this entire visit wasn't obvious enough. Geoffrey huffed and settled his head to rest atop his paws with a heavy sigh. Jonathan appeared sheepish at the question as he nodded in confirmation.

"He gives me a purpose that is more satisfying in a way. A more immediate reason to greet each day." He mused. "I adore him and I'd dare to say he may be a bit fond of me in return."

_Don't push yer luck leech._ Geoffrey scoffed in his head. _I'm only tolerating you for now._

"That's wonderful to hear, Jonathan." The Lady Leech chimed with a carefully schooled smile. "I do wish to extend a warning to you as a friend."

"Yes milady?"

"I understand you have suffered a great loss recently but be wary still, Jonathan. In your grief, you may not see the troubles ahead. This dog is a blessing that has helped you heal but it could also be your downfall." She spoke clearly and calmly in a quiet almost motherly tone that was off putting to Geoffrey. It was almost too restrained.

"I heard from Dr. Swansea that you are still searching for his owner?"

Jonathan shifted uneasily at that and sighed. "Sort of." He reached down to scratch behind Geoffrey's ear and combed his fingers down the back of his neck til he was stopped by the scarf. He repeated the motion as if to ease his anxiety about the topic at hand.

"I know it's only the right thing to do but so far I've only encountered deception from people who would wish to do poor Arthur harm. I've even been approached by Wet Boot Boys claiming he was a family hunting hound." He shook his head. "At this point, I'm under the impression that his owner is either dead or abandoned him."

"That may be, Jonathan." The Lady Leech sighed softly. "He is still a mortal creature who may pass at any moment. He is not like us." She warned. "You have such a gentle sensitive heart my dear. I'm just afraid that by taking this poor soul in, you've only set yourself up for more pain."

Jonathan fell quiet at that, only uttering a soft. "Thank you for your concerns, milady." His fingers massaged the top of Geoffrey's head as he stroked each ear and slipped down under his jaw to scratch beneath his chin. It was getting really hard to focus on the conversation when Reid was being so damn distracting. Geoffrey had half a mind to bite his hand to make him stop but that thought flew out the window when he caught that good itch Geoffrey had been trying to scratch all damn day just below his jaw. His leg twitched a bit as he groaned and relished in the wave of relief after hours of insufferable misery.

The important information that the Lady Leech had to say was simply a warning of caution for Reid. The leech doctor wasn't that reassured by her soft words and carefully guarded smiles. Their parting was stilted and the silence followed long after they left the fancy West End house.

A dark cloud lingered over Reid's head, stealing his attention while they walked. Geoffrey led them along the wider streets, allowing for slack in the leash as they went. He would stop several times to check back at Jonathan but the man was lost in thought. Geoffrey shook his head in dismissal and settled back into a slower, easier pace. It wasn't any of his concern if Jonathan wanted to be mopey about something ridiculous. He couldn't even figure out what had him so distracted and it was mildly annoying.

His own attention shifted from the doctor towards an unusual shadow of movement. It was caught in the corner of his eye, drawing his attention just as the shadow leapt and darted for the doctor. Geoffrey realized too late what it was. He let out a deafening bark and jerked the doctor forward with his leash. The doctor bowed forward with a startled sound just as a saber narrowly missed slicing into his neck.

Jonathan's widened in shock as he twisted to defend with his claws raised to parry the next blow. Geoffrey yanked the leash free of Jonathan's hold when he bolted towards the offending leech, sinking his teeth into its bicep when he tried to swing again. He let all of his body weight hang back, ripping and rending flesh with his incisors as he snarled and ground his jaws shut. The attacking ekon screeched in panic as the doctor dug his claws into its chest and quickly ended its existence with a well placed strike to the heart.

Geoffrey heaved the body back with a furious growl and proceeded to turn the dead leech into a chew toy. His hackles raised along his back and neck, hard to spot with all the articles of clothing he currently wore but what little peeked up around his scarf portrayed his emotions about the underhanded attack well enough.

"Arthur!" Jonathan blurted. A sudden explosion of shadows emerged around Geoffrey drawing a whimper from the canine as cold dread filled his chest. There was a second assailant but Geoffrey had missed it. He blinked and found Jonathan's body wrapped around his with his arms wound around Geoffrey's torso keeping him tucked against him. A barrier of blood surrounded them, defending from any untoward attacks. Geoffrey squirmed in Jonathan's hold as the ekon snarled. He bared his fangs in a fierce grimace, anger welling up in pristine pools of icy blue. Jonathan turned to greet the offending leech that dared raise a hand against them.

The Ekon in question realized very quickly the mistake they made when Jonathan roared with unhindered rage. His eyes flashed a deadly bloody red before he blinked out of view. Geoffrey could barely follow the wisps of shadows and the spray of blood as claws assaulted the unwitting ekon until only amputated limbs remained. It was hard to tell that what now lay slumped in a heap of mince meat was once human shaped. Geoffrey licked the blood from his lips and grimaced at the foul taste that seemed to always accompany the blood of leeches. Jonathan's clothes were ruined, ripped and soaked in the same foul stench of dead leeches. The rage faded from his eyes as he slowly approached, nearly stumbling from weariness as he inspected Geoffrey with a critical eye. One hand reached to retrieve the leash as he dropped to kneel before the hound.

Geoffrey wasn't expecting the hug that pulled him tight against Jonathan's chest as the ekon smothered his face into the hound's shoulder. Geoffrey was shocked and not quite sure what to do about this situation. Even less so when he heard Jonathan sniffle and felt the way his shoulders shook. Geoffrey whined softly into the crook of his neck, pressing his cold damp nose against the leech's cheek to try and get him to unravel.

"I thought I was going to lose you, Arthur." Jonathan's words were soft and brittle with underlying emotions that he kept drawn back. His eyes were ringed red and agitated but for a far different reason as he fought back the urge to cry all over the hound. Geoffrey would rather not be covered in leech snot and bloody tears thank you very much. He actually liked this scarf and didn't want it any more ruined than it might already be. He supposed it wouldn't be so bad given the blood stains would match the red and black checkered patterns.

"Thank you so much for defending me, Arthur. You're such a sweet boy. My brave boy." Jonathan's fingers combed over his head and ruffled his ears as the ekon sat back enough to meet Geoffrey's gaze properly. It was strange seeing the leech actually concerned for his well being. He supposed that wasn't entirely true. It would probably be far different if he knew who it was really that he was currently coddling. He wondered if Jonathan would still fret and hold him like that had he known it was Geoffrey inside?

Maybe the better question is, why did he save Reid? 

He could have utilized the opportunity to run off and get the freedom he was seeking. He would be free of the infuriating leech doctor had the two ekons succeeded and he could return to Priwen and carry on with his Great Hunt. All would have been well. And yet, there was a sickening feeling in his guts every time he thought about Jonathan's demise. He supposed it was guilt. How exactly would that be repaying a debt if he let him die? Maybe that was the truth of it. He saved the leech to repay his debt. It was instinctive. His loyalty was sated, he did his part of the deal and now he doesn't owe him a thing more.

That sick feeling inside still refused to leave him, even after Jonathan collected himself and dragged himself back to his feet. They made it almost entirely back to the Pembroke when Geoffrey realized exactly what it was. He spent a good five minutes relieving the contents of his stomach in a pile of garbage on the side of the street while Jonathan watched with a concerned expression. His belly wasn't fond of vampire blood and more often than not he ended up vomiting at the end of hunts if he ever accidentally consumed some. If he didn't puke it up, he'd eat a good heap of grass and lie in bed with a bellyache for the next three days sipping herbal tea while O'Connor fretted over him. He made it a habit not to bite leeches too often because of that but it would seem he didn't learn his lesson yet.


End file.
